


Pretend Play (on pause)

by reeria



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek is a sadist, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Halloween, I Don't Even Know, Jackson is a bully, M/M, Scott is a Good Friend, There will be sex, Wolf Derek, Wolf Derek Hale, and a softie, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:26:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2652041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeria/pseuds/reeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is boyfriend-less and Jackson refuses to be quiet about it, so obviously the only solution here is to pretend date a really hot stranger. Stiles actually manages to do this but of course, nothing in Beacon Hills (or his life) can go smoothly and he ends up with someone who isn't... exactly... normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Operation Pretend Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I was watching Okami Shoujo to Kuro Ouji and I was like, damn, what if this was about Stiles and Derek instead? The idea amused me so much that I just decided to have a go at writing it and voilà! Here is the first chapter!

The fifth game of team fortress 2 had just finished, proving that once again stiles was the master, and once again that Jackson was a sore loser, and of course, that Scott was still oblivious to the wet sounds of his lips smacking over the microphone. "Would you look at that Jackson! I'm still the best at this game, no matter how many rematches you demand!" Stiles sang, grinning from ear to ear. He was so proud he practically glowed, just imagining Jackson's stupid grumpy face in that very moment was giving him tingles, he was probably pouting and furiously wiping the tears away from his eyes. Beautiful. 

"Yeah, well, the only reason you're so good at this is because you play it all the fucking time." Jackson mumbled over the microphone.

"And?" Stiles leaned forward in his swivel chair, resting his elbows onto the side of his desk. "What's your point?" Unsurprisingly, Scott was still enjoying his raspberry jelly, purposely remaining (somewhat) quiet. Stiles honestly didn't blame him, sometimes these Stiles vs. Jackson scenarios got pretty crazy pretty quickly, and Scott was far too nice to get involved with such antics. 

"My point is, nerd, that if you had a girlfriend or a boyfriend or whatever it is you're into, you wouldn't be able to play it so much, but because you're a loser that's never going to happen." Stiles chuckled, rolling his eyes. Jackson was far, far too predictable and lacked any originality. 

"Jackson, you do realise no one uses the word nerd as a diss any more, right? This isn't the 80s." And anyway, Stiles was well aware he was a nerd, even his dad called him one, he was totally OK with it. He enjoyed reading, video games and Sci-fi films, so what? Had Jackson not seen 'Revenge of the Nerds'?

"Let me guess Stiles... still a Virgin? Still jerking off three times a day? Have you even seen another person naked?" Stiles chuckled. Oh how fun, Jackson was actually trying to get to him this time, maybe he'd had an argument with Lydia and needed to get all that pent up anger out? Stiles closed his eyes and silently prayed but of course Jackson interrupted with a scoff and continued to do the only thing he was good at, talking shit. "I bet you jerk off to My Little Pony porn." Oh fuck. Jackson was the absolute worst. That's not something you joke about, even if you are a major asshole. Stiles stuttered, unsure of how to defend himself, but Jackson decided to take the silence as a confirmation. "I knew it! I fucking knew it!"

"Fuck you Jackson, that's complete bullshit." 

"I bet you even pay for it, don't you? I bet you pay for all that pony porn." OK now that was a step way too far. No one paid for porn any more, how dare Jackson even joke about that. Stiles had to make him stop talking because he was currently on a whole new level of pissed off, one that had never been reached before and should never be reached again. He had to say something that would surprise Jackson so much it would make his brain slip out of his ears, and there was only one thing that was guaranteed to do the job. 

"I don't actually, because I do in fact have a boyfriend, Jackson, so suck on that you gigantic asshat." Incredibly, he managed to speak without a single stutter, not once stumbling over his words, in fact he sounded so confident and certain that he half believed the lie himself. Much to his surprise, Scott was the first to talk.

"What? Really Stiles? Why didn't you tell me?" Stiles couldn't help but feel guilty, lying to his best friend was a rare occurrence and never something he enjoyed, especially since Scott was so trusting and probably believed him. 

"Yeah right." Jackson sneered.

"You don't have to believe me, but he definitely exists." 

"Well then, who is he?" Jackson asked through gritted teeth. Stiles cleared his throat and quickly considered the answer; he couldn't say it was someone from  
college because Jackson would simply track them down and interrogate them, which would result in the whole lie being blown open and also causing Stiles to be humiliated. 

"He isn't from college, he's older, so you wouldn't know him." 

"Ha, how convenient. You're talking out of your ass." Stiles grumbled to himself, irritably taped onto his desk and wondered why Jackson couldn't just blindingly believe him and make this whole stupid thing easier to pull off.

"How did you meet him?" Scott piped in, sounding genuinely interested in his best friends fake love life, bless his heart. Stiles tapped his lip with his index finger and hummed.

"Well, it was all a bit of a blur really, but we met in... GameStop. He asked me for a recommendation and things just kind of snowballed from there." This was quite possibly both the best and the worst lie he had ever told and honestly, Stiles was in awe of himself.

"That's the worst thing I've ever heard." Jackson muttered but Stiles didn't even bother to respond because Scott was congratulating him, like a true best friend would.

"Thanks man, it's all still pretty new to me but he's really great and totally hot so who knows, maybe he's the one?" Jesus Christ stiles was so good at this, he didn't even have to try any more. 

"I want to see a picture." Jackson demanded out of nowhere.

"What?"

"Send me a picture of him to prove he actually exists." Shit. Stiles had pictures of guys on his phone, sure, but they were all singers and actors and were in no way his fake boyfriend. 

"I- er, I don't have one at the moment, but the next time I see him I'll take a picture." 

"OK, deal." Wow, it actually worked? Stiles rubbed a hand over his face, relieved. "Anyway, I'm going now, I can only talk to you nerds for a certain amount of time and I've already reached my limit." And with that Jackson was offline, not even a goodbye or a good game.

"Why do we still play with him?" Stiles asked, frowning at his monitor.

"Because you enjoy beating him in every game we play."

"Oh yeah. Duh." 

\---

It was the following day Stiles found the perfect stranger to be his pretend boyfriend. He had decided the night before not to use a picture from the internet, even though there were so many Facebook profile pics that would do the job brilliantly, he wanted to avoid the chance that Jackson actually exercised his brain and used reverse image search to find out Stiles was supposedly dating a dude called Nathan Blunkett who lived in Canada and owned a parrot. 

Just like so many romantic clichés, it took place within a coffee shop whilst Stiles was waiting for his hot chocolate to be made. He scanned the room, bored, and spotted a man sitting alone at one of the tables towards the back, casually sipping at his coffee and taking his time completing a crossword puzzle. Stiles thought he was pretty much perfect and would probably make Jackson shit his pants. All he needed was a picture that made him look like a genuine boyfriend and he was in the money. Unfortunately Stiles was, more often than not, embarrassingly awkward around strangers, especially attractive ones, and had no idea how he was going to do this without making a complete fool of himself or getting arrested. It was worth a try anyway.

"Sir? Your hot chocolate?" Stiles spun around to find his hot chocolate ready and waiting and after quickly thanking the barista, he strolled toward the back of the room, trying his absolute best to appear cool and totally not creepy. Fortunately for him, the man was far too busy glaring down at the crossword on the table like he wanted to set it on fire, rather than finish it, to notice stiles being totally cool. It was a Friday, he had no college and he was feeling reckless, so he sat down at the table right beside the stranger and proceeded to sneak in small glances every few seconds. The man was truly something else, he wore a leather jacket, furrowed eyebrows and a five o'clock shadow, and without even trying he was everything Stiles could ever dream of. He did angry and brooding so well, somehow made it attractive, and all Stiles wanted to do was crawl into his lap and see how much more pissed off he could make him. After surveying the scene and taking a few careful sips of hot chocolate he decided to go in for the kill. Pulling his rucksack into his lap he began to pretend rummage through his things, as if trying to locate something tucked away. Once he was sure the act had been convincing enough he tugged out his keys and threw them to the side, faking a surprised gasp as they flew through the air and under the man's table, hitting the floor with a clunk and sliding towards the wall. Stiles clamped a hand over his mouth to further prove this was an accident and not at all on purpose, and glanced up at the man who was now staring right back at him, face blank and motionless. It was go time. 

"Whoops." Stiles shrugged and offered an apologetic smile, but the man didn't smile back, only continued to glare at him with the force of a thousand suns. When he made no movement towards the keys Sstiles began to think that maybe he had made a huge mistake here, maybe he had unwittingly chosen a psychotic serial killer to be his pretend boyfriend and now he was as good as dead. A dead man walking. Jackson would have a field day over this, Stiles would never live it down (because he'd be dead), why couldn't the guy just reach for the keys like a normal, polite person would? Stiles sighed and decided to just do it himself, despite how painfully awkward it would be to crawl under the table the evil man was sitting at, still glaring and still remaining weirdly quiet and still. Trying his best to be subtle, he took hold of his phone before standing up, pushing his chair backwards and carefully taking the few steps towards the other table, chancing a few cautious glances at the evil man, who was staring Stiles down like a bloody hawk. Honestly, this whole situation was very weird and Stiles really wanted to just make a swift exit and maybe never come back to this coffee shop again, but he really needed his keys and he was already crouching under the table now, so it was far too late to run away away screaming. Avoiding the man's boots (they were also leather, and looked well worn and could probably stamp a man's skull in easy-peasy) he crawled towards the keys and once close enough, reached out to grab them up. Amazingly, the man had held back from kicking the shit out of him while he had the chance, which really, Stiles was incredibly thankful for, and hey, maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all. Now that the keys were firmly in his grasp he switched his phone to camera mode and made his way out from under the table, slowly standing up, and quickly, without giving a second to doubt himself, tapped his thumb once onto the screen and took a picture of the man. It was only after the picture had been taken that he realised said man was still staring at him. 

"Did you just take a picture of me?" 

"What? No!" Stiles spluttered, hiding the phone behind his back as if it would help, and tried not to think about how delicious the man's voice was, how it made his skin prickle and tingle. 

"Clearly a lie." The man blinked slowly, still not taking his eyes off of stiles. 

"No, no, definitely not a lie!" Stiles desperately shook his head, wondering how this could possibly go any more wrong and get any more awkward. "Thanks for er- letting me get my keys?" Stiles asked, following up with a sigh aimed at his stupid self. That was how. The man squinted at him, as if trying to figure something out, before idly turning away, back to his crossword. For a few seconds, Stiles just stood there and breathed in and out, in and out. Had he just narrowly avoided death? Was the man sparing his life? Oh happy days, he had been given a second chance! Stiles wasn't going to waste it, he was going to get the hell out of there and send Jackson the picture, really turn his life around. He didn't even care about the hot chocolate he had totally forgotten about (he cared a little, they were expensive and had extra cream) and now that he had scampered outside of the coffee shop and was no longer in the same room as that man, he was feeling good, successful. He had managed to get away with a picture of a hot stranger and he still had all his limbs attached and working, in other words, he was a hero.

\---

Stiles sent Jackson the picture the moment the coffee shop was out of sight. Luckily, the picture wasn't blurred and actually looked pretty convincing. The man had been staring directly at the lens and so it kind of looked like he had been fully aware a picture of him was being taken at the time, like he was posing. Sure, he wasn't smiling, but a lot of people preferred not to smile in pictures. Models don't usually smile in pictures so it was totally fine, Jackson was totally going to shit his pants. It was only a minute later when his phone started to make noises and vibrate in his pocket and apparently, Jackson was ringing him. 

"Yellow?"

"No way."

"Yeah way."

"How did you-"

"Don't question me Jackson, I have my ways and my ways never fail."

"But he's so..." His voice trailed off, Jackson was the 'no homo' type.

"Hot? I know. You should see him naked." Stiles smirked, before thinking about that himself, and proceeded to choke on his own saliva.

"No thanks." Jackson dead-panned, which was a relief because Stiles really didn't want to encourage him to ask for a nude. That would be asking for the impossible. "You're still a nerd." Jackson added, as if it might actually do some damage. 

"Great, well, as much as I enjoy talking to you, I have to go and do anything else but this so-" Stiles was nearing GameStop and Jackson was boring.

"What's his name?"

"Huh?"

"You never mentioned his name, what is he? Nameless?" Jackson asked, and Stiles wanted to kick him in the balls so hard right now.

"Er well. His name... I've decided not to tell you because... you'd just try and add him on Facebook, or track him down and show up at his place..." Stiles tried to explain.

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"I don't know Jackson, because you're an ass? Anyway I've got to go. Smell you later!" Stiles pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up as quickly as possible, running a hand through his hair and over his face. That went... well.

\--

Four days later and Sstiles had almost forgotten about his fake boyfriend completely. Sometimes Jackson or Scott would ask a question like "how's lover-boy?" or "he sick of you yet?" and for a brief moment Stiles would be confused, wondering who the hell they were referring to, and then he'd remember the picture he still had saved in his phone, and immediately think up some bullshit answer. 

Since college finished early on a Tuesday, Scott and Stiles decided to eat lunch at Nando's, and although Stiles couldn't quite understand why, they agreed to invite Jackson. It was probably because if they didn't, the second he found out he'd throw a hissy fit about not being included, because although he acts like he doesn't, he secretly loves Scott and Stiles with all his cold, black heart, and treasures every moment he shares with them. Anyway, Stiles was feeling good. It was a week until Halloween and his and Scott's costumes were ready and waiting, having been perfected the day before. They would be going as mermaidman and barnacle boy to a Halloween party hosted by someone from college he couldn't even remember the name of, but practically everyone was attending and it was going to be "a-fucking-mazing" according to a group of girls he walked past the other day. Last years Halloween had consisted of horror games and horror films, just Stiles and Scott, each trying to prove who was the biggest scaredy-cat. Turns out it was Stiles but whatever, it had been close. This year was going to be a lot more fun.

The three of them walked to Nando's from college, luckily everything was reasonably close in Beacon Hills and walking saved money, unfortunately it gave Jackson more of a chance to annoy the hell out if Stiles. Scott was walking in between the two, acting as a sort of barrier, and they were discussing which bond film is the best, although Stiles wasn't really paying attention. It was late October and the skies were turner greyer and darker with each day, but today the sun was out, shining high and bright in the sky and there was only a slight cool breeze. Yellow and orange leaves brightened the side walk and Stiles was concentrating very hard, trying to step on as many as possible just to hear that satisfying crunch. 

"So Jackson, you finally decided what you're going as for Halloween?" Scott asked just as stiles crunched a particularly delicious sounding leaf. 

"Lydia wants us to go as some characters from Grease." He shrugged. 

"Danny and Sandy?" Stiles asked; peeking around Scott to raise his eyebrows at Jackson, who just gave him a blank, expressionless face in return.

"I don't know. Never seen the film." Stiles froze, grabbing onto Scoff to stop himself from falling to his knees in desperation. How were there people in the world that hadn't seen Grease? Why had Lydia chosen this imbecile over the entire male population? 

"You've never- I can't believe- how-" Stiles couldn't believe it, he turned toward Scott and the two exchanged a look of despair before Jackson huffed in annoyance. 

"So what? I've never seen a Star Wars film either, it doesn't matter." Jackson muttered and to be fair, he did actually look a teeny-tiny bit guilty over his own incompetence, but there was no excuse for never having seen a star wars film, it was a crime against humanity in Stiles eyes.

"Jackson, don't ever speak to me again until you've seen Episode IV, V and VI." 

"Fine with me." Stiles released Scott with a sigh, before they continued to walk for a minute longer, finally reaching Nando's with now hungry bellies. The place was fairly empty, most tables were free and so they got to choose where to sit, or in other words, Jackson got to chose where they sit. They ended up in a booth beside the window and Stiles begrudgingly sat next to Jackson, but only because it meant he sat opposite Scott. It wasn't long until Jackson had asked Scott about his love-life and that Allison girl, which always made Stiles zone out a little, and so he found himself surveying the scene, scanning the room like he always does, trying to pull out some funky characters to invent back stories about. There was a smiling waitress fluttering about the place, a young couple a few booths down apparently having a staring contest, a family on the other side of the room, some school kids who have clearly escaped school and were now taking refuge in the restaurant, and finally another couple a few tables away, although stiles couldn't catch sight of the man, as the woman's head was currently in the way. 

"What you looking at?" Scott's voice was suddenly in close range and Stiles turned back to see he was leaning forward, trying to see what had caught Stiles eye.

"Oh, nothing." Stiles replied, waving a hand in the air. 

"Hello, would you like any drinks, or are you ready to order?" The smiling waitress asked from the spot she had magically appeared from beside the table. Stiles cleared his throat and asked for a diet coke, along with Jackson, and Scott went with an orange juice. The waitress nodded and slipped away and Stiles could see Jackson twisting his body around in his peripheral vision but didn't catch on to what he was doing until it was too late. 

"Ohhhhhh." He sang knowingly, giving Stiles an evil smirk that was definitely not good news. "I know what you were looking at." He turned back, looking over his shoulder again and Stiles followed his gaze, apparently back to the couple a few tables away but this time the woman was leaning backwards, playing with her dark brown hair, and the man was- oh shit.

"What? Who is it?" Scott asked but Stiles was too busy internally freaking out to talk.

"It's lover-boy, but on a date with a girl?" Jackson said and Scott began to wriggle in his seat, trying to get a better view. This was a nightmare, Stiles was sure of it, if he pinched himself hard enough he'd wake up and then he wouldn't have to deal with the shitstorm that was about to take place. 

"It's not him." Stiles stated, turning around straight faced, trying to appear as calm and composed as possible. 

"He looks exactly like the guy-"

"Jackson, shut the fuck up, it's not him." Scott gave him a concerned look and Stiles simply shrugged back. 

"Let me just ask him-" Jackson explained, trying to push Stiles out of the booth so he could slip past and make his way over to ruin his life. "Stiles move over."

"No way asswipe." Stiles sneered, giving him the stink eye, but Jackson wasn't having any of it and started to actually stand up on the seat as if he was about to climb over the side of the booth and jump down into the floor. Stiles was quite possibly panicking a lot, he couldn't let Jackson talk to his fake boyfriend because his fake boyfriend was a total stranger and maybe a serial killer. "Okay! Wait stop!" Stiles tugged Jackson down and groaned. "Look, just let me- let me talk to him first, he's a bit, er... shy, and I should give him a warning before you talk to him." Jackson was watching him very closely, but Scott, always the understanding best friend, was nodding and smiling. 

"Sure, that's a good idea." Stiles gave him a quick, grateful smile before pointing to Jackson. 

"Don't move." Jackson rolled his eyes and lifted both hands up in air, suddenly acting all innocent. God, he was so annoying. With one last sigh Stiles collected what little courage he could find and slipped out of the booth, rolling his shoulders and clearing his throat. Fake boyfriend and his date were still blissfully unaware to as what was about to happen, and didn't really seem to be talking to each other all that much, so maybe they'd even be thankful for the distraction, or maybe pigs could fly. Stiles was only a table away, could feel Jackson and Scott watching his every move from behind, when suddenly fake boyfriend looked straight up at him and his blood ran cold. "Hi, hello." Stiles tried to smile but was pretty sure he looked like he was in pain. "Sorry to interrupt." The brunette girl looked up and Stiles was not surprised to see she was incredibly attractive, of course she would be, his fake boyfriend probably dated all the pretty girls. Stiles glanced between the two, they were both watching him expectantly, the girl wearing a small, delicate smile. Stiles couldn't tell if the man remembered him from the coffee shop incident, his face didn't give anything anyway. "I don't want to ruin your date but-"

"Oh no, this isn't a date. This is an older-sister-trying-to-help-her-baby-brother-but-he-won't-listen type of meal." The woman explained, looking pretty defeated. Stiles nodded and held back from grinning and dancing after leaning that they were merely siblings and not lovers. 

"I don't need your help Laura." The man practically growled, surprising Stiles enough to make him jump. The woman, or Laura, scoffed, rolled her eyes and gave Stiles a look as if to say "typical him".

"Sure you don't Derek." Stiles smiled to himself, achievement unlocked, he now knew his fake boyfriend's name. Derek. "So what's up?" Laura asked, looking up at Stiles with sharp eyes. 

"Well actually, I was wondering if I could..." Would it be weird to use his name here? She just said it so it wouldn't be creepy right? "...Speak to Derek here, about something, private." He glanced at Derek to observe his reaction and wasn't disappointed, he was staring back, unblinking, his thick eyebrows knitted together and a slight frown on his lips. He managed to look a weird mix of confused, annoyed, curious and amused, Stiles wanted to reach out and bop him on the nose just to see how he would react. 

"Oh sure! Be my guest!" Laura smiled, immediately waving them away. She probably thought they knew each other, which was kind of incredible really, Stiles didn't speak to or know people like Derek, he was in a whole other league. Stiles collected dead bugs, Derek probably went to the gym five times a week.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Derek asked. 

"No. Don't be boring, go, go, go." She was actually shooing them away now and pulling a phone out of her handbag to indicate it was the end of the discussion completely. Derek huffed and slowly pulled himself out of his seat, purposely ignoring Stiles.

"Okay, cool. Can we just- can we go into the bathroom and-" 

"I'll follow you." Derek sighed, still not meeting Stiles' eyes and now he was feeling guilty for dragging the poor guy into his mess, clearly he just wanted to be left alone. 

The bathroom was empty, thank god, and although it didn't smell great, it was good enough to stand around in for a few minutes. Stiles walked to the centre of the room and fiddled with his fingers, trying to figure out where he should start. "Ok, I know this is totally unfair on you and I feel like a real ass, so first let me just apologise and-"

"What have you done?" Derek's eyes flicked up to stare back at him and Stiles took note of how scary the dude could be if he tried. 

"Nothing bad, I just sort of..." Derek raised a single eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with this whole situation, so Stiles decided to just tell it like it is to get it over and done with. "I took a picture of you at the coffee shop, remember? Well, I used that picture to prove to my two friends, who are out there sitting at our table,"He pointed towards the door "that we are dating, that you're my... boyfriend, and it totally worked! But now that they've seen you here, seen you in real life, they wanted to talk to you." Stiles bit his lip and Derek took a deep breath in, tilted his head backwards and stared at the ceiling. 

"Are you serious?" He asked and Stiles' dropped his shoulders, nodding.

"Yes. I'm an idiot, I know." Derek glanced back down and went back to staring straight at him. It was an intense stare to say the least and Stiles shifted his weight from foot to foot, refusing to keep still under it. There was an awkward silence for a good ten seconds, although it felt more like ten minutes, and just as Stiles was about to shove his head under the cold tap to drown himself, Derek spoke. 

"So, you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?" He asked and Stiles winced at how casually he had asked the question, it was worrying how fine he suddenly seemed with this. In actuality Stiles was going to ask him to just pretend this one time in the restaurant, and then he'd make up some elaborate sad story about their heart shattering break-up and with luck the whole mess could be a thing of the past, never spoken about again. If Derek was offering to pretend for longer then who was stiles to deny him? Sure, the guy was fairly scary and Stiles had a suspicious feeling about him, like there was more there that wasn't so obvious, something secret, but he was also really attractive and looked like he could pick Stiles up with one arm without even trying. He was already sold. 

"If that's OK with you of course. I'd owe you big time, anything you want, you name it." He tried to sound as innocent as possible but his mind was filled with the brilliant idea of thank-you blowjobs and nothing else, so he most likely failed. Stiles caught Derek actually giving him a once over but before he could react or blush Derek was sticking his right hand out into the air.

"Ok. Deal." And that was that. Operation Pretend Boyfriends was a go. Stiles eagerly shook his hand while trying to calm his breathing and level his erratic heartbeat, but Derek's hand was strong and warm, and it had covered stiles' almost completely. God, if he got flustered over a stupid handshake what was he going to do when they held glands or even hugged. What about kissing? Would Derek be ok with bringing kisses into the whole boyfriend act? Stiles said a quick and silent prayer. "But first." Derek spoke, making him jump. "I want you to turn around and bark three times." He crossed his arms over his chest, the corners of his mouth turning upwards ever so slightly. Stiles stood frozen to the floor, more confused than he had ever been before in his life, 

"Sorry, what?" 

"If you want me to do this you must do whatever I tell you to." Derek explained and raised his eyebrows in expectancy, waiting for Stiles to respond. 

"Okay, fine, but why the hell do you want me to bark?"

"Think of it as training." Was his answer, which only made stiles roll his eyes. "I need to check that you're going to follow through with my requests otherwise we can just call the whole thing off now." That was no longer an option, even though this request was totally weird, stiles still wanted Derek to be his pretend boyfriend. Before he could think about how he'd probably regret doing this later, he spun around on the spot, nearly slipping on the polished bathroom floor, and mumbled three heartless "woofs", before looking at Derek with an expression that screamed "you happy now?" Unfortunately, Derek was not happy now and instead looked thoroughly unimpressed, bored even, and he slowly shook his head. With a sigh, stiles turned around again, this time slower, and when he was facing Derek he cleared his throat before actually barking, three reasonably loud, dog-like "woofs". There was total silence for an uncomfortable amount of time before the bathroom door swung open and a man strolled into the room, giving Stiles and Derek an odd, curious glance, before unzipping his flies and going along with his business, whistling to himself. "Ok." Derek said, which Stiles took as a "good enough, I am now your fake boyfriend". 

"Ok." Stiles parroted, which really meant "you're my hero but you're also kinda weird too". Derek made no move towards the door, so Stiles remained glued to his spot too, wondering what the hold up was. They had already been in the bathroom for an unusual amount of time, maybe Jackson, Scott and Laura thought they were making out or having a quickie in a bathroom stall. 

"Would you like to tell me your name?" Derek asked, suddenly irritated, and now stiles felt like a first class idiot. 

"Fuck, yeah of course, I'm Stiles." He thumbed towards himself, trying to act cool along with hoping Derek didn't ask if that was his real name and if not what his actual real, full name was. Thankfully he didn't and instead just stared back at him for a short moment before turning away with a nod. 

Stiles was happy to finally leave the bathroom. 

The food was just arriving at the table, clearly they had ordered for him, and the moment Stiles was in eyesight Jackson and Scott turned to stare at him as he made his way over, probably trying to spot an open fly, or any suspicious stains on his jeans, or any other a signs that he just got down and dirty. Sadly for everyone no such thing happened, and when he reached the table Jackson was the first to speak. 

"You get lost in there?" 

"No."

"Everyone OK?" Scott asked and Stiles gave him a genuine smile, nodding.

"Yeah, everything's cool." He turned around and saw Derek standing beside Laura's seat, talking to her as she kept glancing back to stiles. He couldn't make out if Derek was telling her the truth or playing along, trying to convince Laura that yes, he was actually dating the dweeb over there, but either way she was smiling. A second later Derek was stalking towards him, making his way over to Stiles' side and casually brushing up against him. It was like an electric shock ran through stiles body, his arm felt hot, strange, but it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, he didn't mind the butterflies fluttering away in his stomach. 

Both Jackson and Scott sat in awe, mouths open and eyes unblinking. "This is Derek." Stiles pointed."Derek, this is my best friend Scott and some dude called Jackson." Derek gave a quick nod and pursed his lips, slowly looking between the two. Unbelievably, Jackson remained quiet and only continued to eye Derek carefully, like he was some kind of wild animal.

"It's nice to meet you Derek." Scott smiled and Stiles was about ready to kiss his entire face and yell "thank you" a hundred times. 

"Are you blind?" Jackson asked but it sounded more like an accusation, and Stiles sighed in exasperation because of course Jackson couldn't just be normal and nice for once, no he just had to be a total asswipe. 

"No." Derek replied, staring Jackson down with an empty, expressionless face that was far more unnerving than a scowl or frown could ever be. At least Stiles wasn't the only one that wanted to punch Jackson, at least Derek and him now had a thing in common that they could bond over. Rather incredibly Jackson didn't say anything after that, only choosing to pick up his coke to carefully sip at. 

"Ok! Great!" Stiles clapped his hand together, ignoring Scott's amused expression and turned to Derek, debating whether to pat him on the shoulder or touch at his arm gently to try and appear more comfortable and natural around him. Derek beat him to it and suddenly there was a hand pressed into the middle of his back and Derek was facing him, his face closer than ever before, and he was staring directly into Stiles eyes, muttering the words "I'll see you later" before disappearing back to his table where Laura was waiting. Stiles suddenly felt very cold and without realising sunk into the booth, sliding into the seat beside Scott. 

"You ok?" Scott asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

"So who's the chick?" Jackson asked. 

"His sister."

"Oh." Scott chuckled softly and patted Stiles shoulder three times.

"Come on, let's eat."


	2. A Halloween Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ok so i finally kind of finished this chapter, i wanted to write more but uni has been killlliiiing me recently so this is enough for now......... gah, i'll hopefully write much more over xmas. please pray for me.

Somehow Stiles had totally forgotten to ask for Derek's number which was a pretty remarkable thing to have forgotten, considering they were now officially pretend dating and might need to actually talk to each other. They couldn’t simply rely on randomly bumping into one another in coffee shops and restaurants anymore, this was serious business. Stiles wasn't surprised Derek had failed to remember though, he probably purposely 'forgot' to mention it in hopes that he'd never see or hear from him again. Unluckily for him, Beacon Hills wasn't exactly New York and they were bound to come across one another in the near future, possibly at the local supermarket or gas station, or somewhere else terribly normal. This was his initial thought, but it had been three days since that, although Stiles wasn't counting, and Derek was nowhere to be seen, there wasn’t a single trace of him in Beacon Hills. He had tried to track him down on Facebook and even tried twitter but the guy didn't seem to exist on the internet either, which honestly Stiles thought was impossible these days and couldn’t help but be impressed by. Sometime, when he was having a weak moment, he'd glare at the picture still saved on his phone just to remind himself that he does actually exist, somewhere, possibly in a cave.

It was a cold and damp Monday, the dark, grey sky made it feel as if yesterday’s evening had refused to leave, dragging on to the next day, and the moment Stiles had walked out of the front door at 8:27am, he wanted nothing more than to be back in bed under six duvets. His arms and legs were heavy, his eyes ached and the bitter weather made his lips dry and his toes numb. He had forgotten to put a second pair of socks on. To make matters worse, the moment class had started it dragged by at a painful pace, the tutor's words pure gibberish and college an icy hell, cold because the heating was busted. Scott was asleep in his seat next to Stiles and god, did he envy him, he could probably sleep through a damn hurricane. Stiles, on the other hand, relentlessly worked away at his sheet of doodles and scribbles, finishing his drawing of a cartoon robot before moving onto the intense task of chewing the hell out of his biro pen until the ink cartridge broke and his fingers were covered in black smudges. When class finally came to an end and Stiles felt twenty years older, he walked home down the long road alongside the woods, earphones in and music blasting, kicking at the piles of leaves. When he was younger Scott and Stiles would play hide and seek in the woods, they would climb trees and sword fight with the large twigs and sticks they found. That was years ago, sometimes Stiles ached for those times, sometimes he would drag Scott into the woods just to go for a walk but it had been a while since either of them had ventured inside. Now that breaking bad, the internet and video games existed there was really no point to leaving their rooms.

Stiles glanced to his right, observing the trees as he walked past, feeling more curious than normal, a weird urge to just step inside and get lost taking over him. Someone was watching, he could feel it on his skin like a tight itch, a tickling under the flesh. Pausing for a moment, he just listened, before crossing the road, turning his back to the woods, and continuing on a different route home. It took ten minutes longer but Stiles wasn't bothered, and when he got in he found a note from his father placed upon the kitchen side, letting him know he would be back late and to go ahead and eat dinner without him. Stiles disregarded this completely and decided to head straight to bed for a nap instead.

Halloween arrived and with it came a blanket of thick mist that covered the town, making it difficult to see even three metres in front of you and seemed to transform Beacon Hills into a ghost town. How Stiles had managed to find his way to college was a mystery, some kind of Halloween miracle, but he'd turned up only seven minutes late unlike Scott who had wondered in 16 minutes later, looking as if he'd rolled straight out of bed, down the street and into college. No one in class was really paying the tutor any attention, Stiles figured everyone was lost in their thoughts and excitement, far too busy thinking about the party that night. The tutor must have sensed this because she let everyone out 15 minutes earlier than usual, rolling her eyes as each and every student stumbled out of the room. It was a little after midday and Stiles was thinking about what he wanted for lunch when Scott nudged him.

"Wanna come over and get ready at mine later?" Scott asked, pushing his chin into his scarf and rubbing his gloved hands together. Stiles followed him out of the main entrance and quickly made his way down the stone stairs, zipping up his jacket as far as it would allow him.

"Definitely."

"The party starts at seven so how about you come over at five, we can eat something before if you're hungry." Scott glanced at him over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. Stiles grinned, before giving a wave goodbye and heading in the direction home, which sadly meant parting ways.

Wasting away a few hours was easy work, Stiles was a natural and ended up spending two hours watching MLG videos, but eventually pulled himself away from his computer to shower. He then proceeded to piss around in his room, mostly just dancing and randomly rearranging his belongings, before it was time to head over to Scott’s. It was already dark out, and dreadfully chilly, so Stiles decided to wear two scarves just because. 

“You’re early.” Scott announced with a smile as soon as he opened the door, Stiles shrugged in defeat.

“You just can’t keep my away.” 

“Hungry?”

“Always.” Stiles kicked off his converse and unwrapped both scarves from around his neck, purposely ignoring Scott’s amused and confused looks, and then the two boys wondered into the kitchen to make crappy sandwiches. 

“I have some alcohol if you want to pre-drink.” Scott offered.

“What kinda alcohol?”

“The cider kind.”

“Well in that case, pass it here.”

The plan hadn't quite been to turn up to the party 45 minutes late, due to finding themselves lost half way to the house, which Stiles fixed by fighting a bush (don’t ask), nor had the plan been to turn up pretty much comatose, singing the Pokemon theme tune, but hey, plans were made to be broken. Or was it rules were made to be broken? Whatever, Stiles didn’t care, he was inside a stranger’s home surrounded by some people he knew and a lot he didn’t, and everything was so fucking funny. Scott was funny. Scott’s red ears were the funniest. The front door had been unlocked so they had pretty much stumbled into the party, finding themselves trapped in a crowd of sweaty, moving bodies, and apparently they weren’t the only attendees having trouble walking straight. If he had to guess, Stiles would say about 85% of the people there were drunk out of their minds, but Stiles was in no situation to start thinking about percentages, could only really think about the weird mix of costumes in the room. Scott and Stiles had both agreed they looked unbelievably good in theirs the moment they had pulled them on, and walking down the street together as Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy was quite an experience, especially with how bloody cold it was outside, Stiles was pretty sure he had frostbite on his toes and it was the reason he was having trouble with the task of walking forward in a straight line. There was no sign of Jackson or Lydia, which he secretly considered a blessing, he always got a bit bitter whenever he saw them together. There were a bunch of other people though, no one quite like Lydia but enough girls to somewhat make up for her absence. Of course, the party had its fair share of sexy cats and sexy nurses and sexy… was that a sexy zombie? There was also Freddy and Jason, Billy the doll from SAW, the Scream guy and good ol’ Satan walking around, chugging at their beers and cheering every time a new song came on, even when it was ‘Gimme More’ by Britney Spears. 

“I haaaaaate this song.” Scott called over his shoulder, making a pouty, dissatisfied face, but Stiles didn’t really care what song was playing so he just nodded. “I wonder if Allison is here…” Scott said and began to desperately scout the place out, eyes flicking between the corners of the room only to find nothing, no sign of her.

“Come on Scotty” Stiles mumbled, drunkenly patting his friend on the back. “Let’s show these fools how to dance.” What he meant by this was: let’s embarrass ourselves completely, and Scott was clearly fine with this idea because he immediately starting throwing shapes all over the place like it was something he was born to do. Stiles went with a more cool and casual dance, head nodding, little hip wiggle, and tried really hard not to mouth along to the song, but soon gave in and joined Scott because Britney was like kryptonite to him.

At some point Stiles tights (he was Mermaid Man and Mermaid Man wore tights) started to feel wet and there was a split second panic of ‘oh god have I wet myself?’ but no, no he had not, and Stiles was relieved, yet annoyed, to find out that instead some drunk asshole had spilt (what smelt like) vodka and coke down one of his legs. It felt gross and he wanted to wash it off right away, so he decided to look for the nearest sink or cup of water to splash over the damp spot. Scott looked like a drunk, kicked puppy when Stiles left his side, but Stiles lifted one finger into the air, signalling to give him a minute and he’d be right back to dance to more bad music with him. Four minutes later and Stiles was certain there wasn’t a single sink inside the entire house, or a cup of water, he could only find vodka and lemonade. He soon found himself at the bottom of a staircase which he somewhat remembered seeing when they had first arrived, but since then it had become a hangout area for all the couples who needed a place to sit, or stand, and endlessly make out, slobbering all over one another’s faces. Grimacing, Stiles thought against trying to climb over them to reach the bathroom, he’d only end up kicking someone in the face and stairs in his state were already a tricky undertaking let alone ones covered with intoxicated and horny teenagers.

Without really meaning to Stiles turned around and walked straight out of the front door, onto the front lawn outside, only realising where he was the moment he felt the freezing breeze on his skin. The wet patch on his tights sucked in as much of the cold as it could and just like that, his skin was covered in goose bumps and he was shaking, teeth chattering. It was incredible how quickly he seemed to sober up, suddenly able to think again. There were two boys and a girl smoking what was probably weed a few feet away, and Stiles watched them for a moment, watched the girl laugh at something one of the boys said before deciding he wanted to go home. Scott was still back in the house of course, but he would understand if Stiles explained to him tomorrow that he suddenly felt like shit and just wanted to be in his bed, warm under his duvet. Scott would probably end up finding some girl to dance with anyway, so in a way, Stiles was doing him a favour. 

Walking home in the cold and the dark, wearing one thin layer of clothing, was the last thing he wanted to do but he had no money for a cab and his phone was back at Scott’s so he couldn’t phone one anyway, it was either walking or nothing. Next year’s Halloween he’d chose a costume that meant wearing a fur suit, something thick and warm, maybe a werewolf. How the girls that wore those tiny outfits did it was a complete mystery to him, surely they should all have hyperthermia? He swore he saw a girl wearing pretty much a leotard and high heels, nothing else, back at the party. Was she insane? Did she know it was November? Stiles rubbed at his arms, rubbed his hands together to get the blood flowing and wiggled his toes inside his converse, not surprised to find two were already numb from the cold. “Idiot.” He muttered to himself under his breath, disappointed that he hadn’t thought to bring a jacket, some gloves, anything along for a situation just like this one. Suddenly there was the strong need to empty out his bladder and Stiles cursed at the dark sky above him before looking for a bush he could duck behind to take a leak. Thankfully he was able to piss but it was possibly the most uncomfortable piss he had ever experienced, thanks to his freezing cold hands. Walking on, things only got worse when he peered around to realise he had wandered onto a street he had never seen before in his life. “Fuck.” It was too late for trick or treaters so the street was frighteningly empty, and dark, so dark he couldn’t find the street sign in hopes he would recognise the name and work his way from there. There was the option of turning back, but he had been walking for a good ten minutes now and was pretty sure he’d turn to ice before he reached the party again. There was a second option, he could knock on someone’s door and ask for directions or a moment to go inside and get warm again, Beacon Hills residents were usually friendly, helpful people, and he was sure they’d be happy to help a poor, handsome young man find his way back home. He looked around, trying to locate the perfect house to go with, one that looked warm and welcoming. Some had their lights turned off with not a single sign of life inside, so he stayed well away from them, but there were also a number of houses with one or two lights on, which was extremely encouraging. Stiles cleared his throat and headed towards the closest one, past a wall of hedges and down the front path, observing the long grass either side of him that clearly hadn’t been cut in a while. The door was a dark colour, maybe black or a dark green, the paint chipped around the edge, and it hurt when he drummed his knuckles against it three times. It felt like an entire lifetime crawled by before there was a quick click and the door was being tugged open. Stiles, eager that someone was actually here to help him, immediately started to greet the stranger. “Hello, sorry to bo-“ The dim light from the hallway behind created an intimidating silhouette, broad shoulders, strong arms, Stiles couldn’t help but yelp a little, taking a step back. 

“You.” It felt like he was in movie, a movie where everything that could possibly go wrong, goes wrong. 

“Hi?” Stiles offered, practically squeaking the work out. Derek took a step forward. 

“Why are you trick or treating alone?” He asked and although Stiles couldn’t really make out his face in the dark, he could tell the guy was glaring.

“I’m not!” Stiles looked down at his costume and thought that to be fair, it was a reasonable thing to assume. “I swear this is just a confidence. I’m not trick or treating, or stalking you.” Stiles assured, both hands up in the air asking for mercy.

“What do you want?” Derek sighed, already done with the whole situation. 

“I’m really lost. And cold, I’m really cold too.” Stiles shivered to further prove his point, but it only made Derek sigh again as if this was all a massive inconvenience to him, as if Stiles was freezing his balls off on his doorstep just to annoy him. 

“And you want me to help?”

“Well… yeah?” Stiles asked, for some reason.

“Come in.” Moving to the side, Derek made space for Stiles to slip by, and although they managed to avoid touching, there wasn’t even a brush of an arm, Stiles felt a jolt of electricity as he walked past, a tingle that ran up his back. He felt warmer already. As Derek pushed the door shut behind him, Stiles took a moment to breathe and go over what just happened. Somehow, out of every single house in Beacon Hills, he had managed to pick the one Derek lived in, somehow he had found Derek after days of nothing, without even trying to. It was another Halloween miracle, or nightmare, he’d have to stick around to find out. “So what are you?” Derek’s voice came from close behind him, startling Stiles, causing him to fumble his words like the nervous wreck he currently was.

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes. You.” Derek moved past him, gave a brief unimpressed look, and continued down the hallway into the room at the end. Stiles furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before realising, duh, he was asking about his costume. God, questions where hard to answer when the whole house smelt like wildlife, the forest, burnt oak and burnt toast, smelt like Derek. 

“I’m Mermaid Man!” Stiles followed Derek into the room, which turned out to be the kitchen, and was pleased to find the light bulb here was much brighter than the one in the hallway, this way he could actually see Derek, could watch as the guy scowled and frowned his way through a conversation. When there was no response to his explanation, Stiles decided that Derek had no idea who Mermaid Man was because he clearly wasn’t the cartoon type. “It’s a character from Spongebob Squarepants.” Finally, Derek lifted a single eyebrow. 

“You’re wearing a seashell bra.”

“Yup.” They shared a quiet, thoughtful moment before Stiles twitched his head to side and studied the room around him. It was bare, to say the least. It had the essentials of a kitchen, but not much beyond that. There were no pretty, homely framed pictures or paintings on the walls, there wasn’t even a clock, and the windowsill was empty, gloomy, Stiles was desperate to buy him a potted cactus just to fill the space. There was a mug in the sink and some discarded letters left on a kitchen counter, but nothing stood out and grabbed his attention, it was quite disheartening. “Can I make a cup of tea?” Stiles asked, nodding towards the kettle to the left of him. He said it mainly to break the silence and to give his hands something to do, but also because it would help warm him up again. Derek blinked once, slowly, before pushing himself off the counter he had been learning against and walked over to the kettle to flick it on. Stiles stared at his back, his eyes tracing over the folds of fabric as they moved each time Derek leaned a little forward or a little backwards. He was real close now, Stiles could probably just reach out and touch his shoulder.

“You’ve been drinking.” Derek stated although it sounded more like an accusation. Stiles thought there was no point trying to lie, clearly he stunk of alcohol and was probably still visibly tipsy despite not feeling so. Also, what was it to him anyway? Derek wasn’t his father and Stiles was 19, he could look after himself. Well, on second thought, ten minutes ago he was knocking on a stranger’s door looking for help so maybe he wasn’t quite at the looking-after-oneself stage yet. But anyway. 

“Correct.” 

“Party?” Derek guessed, turning around to make eye contact again. 

“Correct again.” Stiles answered and watched as Derek nodded once while the kettle behind him started to make a whole lot of noise, rumbling as the water boiled. “It was a Halloween party, but I left early and got lost on the way home.” Stiles explained with a shrug. 

“Smart.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm which only made Stiles smirk.

“Hey, there is quite a bit of alcohol still left in my system. I didn’t fall over once, which I consider an achievement.” Stiles argued, but honestly he agreed, he wasn’t exactly proud of how things had turned out tonight. 

“You take sugar?” Derek asked, turning away back to the kettle as it quietened down.

“Just one please.” He took two, but for some reason he didn’t want Derek to know that. Suddenly tired, Stiles ran a hand over his face, only remembering the purple face-paint that covered half of it when he noticed that his fingers were now also purple and sticky. “Oops.” Derek didn’t appear to react, just continued to pour out a cup of tea, stirring it over and over, the metal spoon clinking against the side. Stiles practically tiptoed to the sink to wash his hands and found that thankfully the paint washed away under warm water and after some scrubbing. Turning back around he found Derek standing directly behind him, wearing a confused expression, his eyes taking in the mess that was Stiles’ face. “Yeah, I kinda…” Stiles made a hand movement to indicate that he was an idiot and totally smudged the paint by accident, and then watched in awe as Derek allowed a small smile to grace his lips. It was almost painful how sweet it was to see, it was also fleeting, there and gone in a blink of an eye, but Stiles knew he’d be thinking about it for the rest of the week. 

“Your tea is there.” Derek thumbed over shoulder and then he was wandering out of the kitchen, into another room, leaving Stiles to curse at himself over and over and hope to god he didn’t look like too much of an idiot, hoped that the smudged face paint look was one that he could pull off. Yeah right. Carefully he picked his tea up, holding the mug in both hands. He could tell it was an old mug, one that had somehow survived for years, was practically part of the family. On its side was a small painting of Little Red Riding Hood but some of the paint had worn away over time. 

Derek was sitting on the sofa when Stiles walked into the living room. He was perched on the edge, his shoulders hunched, elbows placed on top of his knees. He looked tired, drained, like he hadn’t slept for days or just finished a marathon. As Stiles walked further into the room, towards the single armchair beside the sofa, there was a soft crunch under his right foot. He lifted it up to see a broken leaf and after giving the rest of the floor a quick scan he found it wasn’t the only one. There were about six leaves in the room, scattered over the wooden floor, there was even a small twig. Stiles decided not to mention it. 

“Thanks for the tea.” He slowly lowered into the armchair and took a small sip. Straight away he could tell it had two sugars, just how he liked it, but why did Derek put two in when he asked for one? Maybe it was an accident. “So… can I use your phone or… to call my dad or a taxi…” Stiles muttered, suddenly feeling tense, possibly due to the fact the living room was no improvement on the kitchen, meaning it also had no personality. Fortunately, there were a few framed pictures placed around the room, but that was pretty much it, he didn’t even own a TV. Stiles wondered if Derek had money problems, he clearly wasn’t spending much on his house, there were no expensive gadgets lying around, just some old books carelessly stacked on top of a shelf. 

“I can give you a lift.” Derek said and Stiles nearly dropped his tea he was so surprised. Derek had a car? Derek was offering to drive him home? 

“Yeah? OK!” Stiles agreed with a smile, feeling relaxed again, until Derek looked up and stared straight at him. 

“But you have to do something in return.” Oh. Of course.

“Like what?” 

“Tomorrow.” Derek shrugged, which wasn’t exactly an answer and didn’t comfort Stiles in the slightest. Sure, it could be something simple like help out with some gardening, or clean his car, but it could also be something unpleasant or humiliating. Stiles wasn’t scared of Derek, not really, and he knew he wasn’t going to order him to run down the street naked or something just as degrading, but even the little ‘turn around and bark three times’ situation from the other day had been rather weird, he didn’t want a repeat of that. 

“Care to elaborate?” Stiles pushed. 

“No. Drink your tea.” Derek nodded towards him and then proceeded to frown at the blank wall on the other side of the room, probably thinking up some way to embarrass Stiles tomorrow. 

“You’re really weird.” Stiles muttered, and then slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Damn it, why couldn’t he control his mouth? Now Derek was going to make him do something especially horrible tomorrow. 

“Yeah.” Derek sighed. “You have no idea.” Stiles flicked his head up, quickly observing Derek, but found nothing, just a blank, expressionless face. 

Derek went to get his car keys the moment Stiles had finished swallowing the last of the tea down. He could now feel his fingers and toes and had managed to talk to Derek like they were actual acquaintances, altogether the night hadn’t gone too badly. He gave a thought to Scott, hopefully he was OK. He thought about the party and if Allison had eventually turned up, hoped she did for his best friend’s sake. “Ready?” Derek asked, his head poking out from the kitchen door. 

Derek had a Camaro. Derek had a black Camaro and it was totally spotless, possibly the shiniest thing Stiles had ever seen. He wanted to touch it so badly but he knew if he left a single fingerprint on the thing Derek would run him over with it. The headlights flashed once and there was a little click and suddenly Derek was pulling the driver’s seat door open and climbing inside. Stiles followed suit, opening the passenger door as gently as possible, slowly lowering himself into the leather seat, eventually releasing the breath he had been holding the entire time. He turned to Derek, gave a thumbs up, and watched as Derek rolled his eyes in response. 

Turns out Derek only lived about five minutes away and Stiles could easily have walked home if he had just known where the heck he was.  
Oh well, he had managed to get to know his pretend boyfriend a little better, had even seen the inside of his house. It had all been totally worth it.  
“Hey, thanks for the lift. Before I go, could I get your number?” Stiles asked, his hand resting on the door handle. Derek raised an eyebrow. “It’s just, if we’re going to do the whole pretend dating thing, I think having each other’s numbers would help a whole lot.” 

“Only if you don’t text me after nine pm.” Derek said, staring straight ahead out of the wind shield. Stiles could do that, he could totally do that. He didn't want to text Derek after nine pm anyway. 

“Fine.” Stiles shrugged, and then remembered he didn't have his phone with him to store the number in. “Crap.”

“What now.” Derek had a talent of making questions sound like sentences, it was really something.

“My phone is at Scott’s. Here, let me put mine in your phone and then I’ll text me and-“

“Fine, fine, take it.” Derek dropped the phone into Stiles’ lap and turned back to stare through the wind shield some more, rolling his shoulders. Stiles picked the phone up and chuckled. God, it was like a brick. It was a piece of history, it belonged in a museum. After a ridiculous amount of time hammering away at the keys, he managed to text himself “<3” before passing the phone back to Derek. He pushed the door open and slid out of his seat.

“Well, see you.” Stiles said, leaning down to look into the car, and lifted a hand up to give a quick wave.

“Goodbye Mermaid Man.” Derek replied, and turned to look at him then. There was something present in his eyes, maybe amusement or curiosity, trouble, but it was too dark to tell, even with the car light on. Stiles smiled and nodded, shut the passenger door before turning away from the Camaro to face home. There was the sound of the car starting up behind him, pulling away from the curb, and just like that Derek was gone again, before Stiles had even taken his first step forward.


End file.
